<-- back to Scene Six SCENE 7 The street. Houston, we have a problem.
Sebastian crosses off stage as Viola enters from the other side. They miss each other, and Antonio doesn't notice Viola, but Malvolio catches just a glimpse of the doppelganger: enough to rub his eyes and think for a moment that he's seeing double. The beginning of Malvolio's bewilderment.
MALVOLIO Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?
VIOLA Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither.
MALVOLIO She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord into a desperate assurance she will none of him: and one thing more, that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so.
VIOLA She took the ring of me: I'll none of it.
MALVOLIO Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is, it should be so returned:Tossing the ring to the ground.
if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it.
Malvolio exits. Revelation: Viola has never, ever, been spoken to in such a manner before. No steward in Messaline would dare to dream of such contemptuous familiarity. Is this how normal people talk to each other?
VIOLA I left no ring with her: what means this lady?
Musing amusedly: hey, wouldn't it be funny if...
Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her!
Dawning horror. Oh no.
She made good view of me; indeed, so much, that sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue, for she did speak in starts distractedly.
Double take. No no no ...
She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion invites me in this churlish messenger.
Triple take. No no no no no ...
None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none. I am the man:
At first this is only all kinds of amusing. Then it's amusing and a little dreadful. Then it turns pitiful.
if it be so, as 'tis, poor lady, she were better love a dream. Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness, wherein the pregnant enemy does much. How easy is it for the proper-false in women's waxen hearts to set their forms! Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we! For such as we are made of, such we be.
Straight up, now. You're going to single-handedly break this woman's heart, and it occurs to you that there's nothing good about it. You are already on exactly the same road she is about to travel, (thanks to you), and you wouldn't wish that kind of pain on your sworn blood enemy.
How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly; and I, poor monster, fond as much on him; and she, mistaken, seems to dote on me. What will become of this? As I am man, my state is desperate for my master's love; as I am woman,--now alas the day!-- what thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
Wheels turning ... gears grinding ... smoke rising ...
O time! thou must untangle this, not I; it is too hard a knot for me to untie! [Exit into audience.]
--> on to Scene Eight Twelfth Night Annotated Script © 2001 Kevin M. Hollenbeck.
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